“Oh, come now, Miss Ames,” and Hendricks
chuckled; “this isn’t exactly a joke—­it’s
a hoax, and a new one, but it’s a legitimate
game. From the Davenport Brothers and Herrmann,
on down through the line of lesser lights in the conjuring
business—­even our own Houdini—­we
know there is a trick somewhere; the fun is in finding
it. Hanlon’s is a new one and a gem—­I
don’t even begin to see through it yet.”

“Neither do I,” agreed Mason Eliott.
“I think to do what he did by a trick is really
more of a feat than to be led by real thought-transference.”

“Except that the real thing isn’t available—­and
trick-work is.” Hanlon smiled genially
as he said this, and Embury, a little impatiently,
urged him to go on, and begged the others to cease
their interruptions.

“Well,” Hanlon resumed, “understand,
then, that I cannot be really blindfolded. No
committee of citizens, however determined, can bandage
my eyes in such a manner that I can’t wiggle
my forehead about sufficiently to get the pads up or
down or one side or the other until I can see—­all
I want to.” Hanlon knotted up his frontal
muscles to prove that a bandage tied tightly would
become loose when he relaxed the strain.”
Understand that I can see the ground only for a few
inches directly at the front of me or very close to
my sides. That is all.”

“O.K.,” said Hendricks. “Now,
with your sight assured for that very limited space,
what is next?”

“That, sir, is enough to explain the little
game I put over in the newspaper office, before trying
the out-of-door test. You remember, ladies,
Mr. Mortimer told you how I followed a chalk line,
drawn on the floor, and which led me up and down stairs,
over chairs, under desks, and all that. Well,
it was dead easy, because I could see the line on
the floor all the time. Their confidence in
their ‘secure’ blindfolding made them entirely
unsuspicious of my ability to see. So, that was
easy.”

“Clever, though,” and Embury looked at
young Hanlon with admiration. “Simple,
but most perfectly convincing.”

“Yes, sir, it was the very simplicity of it
that gulled ’em. And, of course, I’m
some actor. I groped around, and felt my way
by chairs and railings and door-frames, though I needn’t
have touched one of ’em. My way was plainly
marked, and I could see the chalk line and all I had
to do was to follow it. But it was that preliminary
test that fixed it in their minds about the ‘willing’
business. I kept asking the ‘guide’
to keep his mind firmly on his efforts to ‘will’
me. I begged him to use all his mental powers
to keep me in the right direction—­oh, I
have that poppycock all down fine—­just
as the mediums at the seances have.”